PS 3^?S 
. 156 G3 *• 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap.T-^-irCopjright No._.. 

4ato — 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



A Gallery of 
Farmer Girls 



KIOTE BOOKS 

A Gallery of Farmcf Girls, (verse) 

by Schuyler W. Miller . . . $1.00 

Over Grass^'GrowQ Trails, (stories) 

by Harry Graves Shedd . . 1.00 

Volume L The Kiotc .... 1.00 

Volume 11. The Kiotc .... 1.00 

IN PREPARATION 
Kiote Tales, Number!. .... $1.25 



A GALLERY OF 
FARMER GIRLS 



by 



SCHUYLER W. MILLER 







.15-4 a. ^ 



«J 'O t •^ijf 



Copyrighted 

1900 

by 

Schuyler W. Miller 



SECOND COPY, 



THE IVY PRESS 

PRINTERS 
LINCOLN, NEB. 






This then is a Little Book of 
Western Verse by Schuyler W. 
Miller, of which Three Hundred 
were printed, and the number 
of this volume is ^ 



7 



M^ 



FOREWORD 




FIERCE storms of win- 
ter, 
Summer's sunny 
days, 
•Wide -stretching prai- 
ries. 
Autumn's velvet 
haze; 
Glad joy, deep sA-row, 

Patience, true/ content. 
Fullest o! all jG( f s blessnij|{s 
Earth-born m )rtals sent ; 
Long day:y^! lajbor, 

Nights^f peajbeful rest, 
Strong^earted pen, true women, 
Earfl's own 



vii 



viii 



CONTENTS 




' 


Page 


At the End of the Row 


11 


The Plowman 


. 13 


Love and Duty . . . . 


16 


Fidelity .... 


. 18 


A Question . . . . 


20 


A Picture .... 


. 23 


Through the Drouth . 


25 


Misanthropy 


. 32 


A Prayer .... 


35 


By Moonlight . 


. 37 


In Any Weather . 


. 39 


A Comparison . 


43 


In June .... 


. 46 


On Inspiration . 


. 48 


Envoi 


. 50 


9 





:<K 



AT THE END OF THE ROW 




ISS Lillic Day's the 
school-ma'am, she 
just passed, 
She said « Good morn- 
ing " just as clear and 
sweet 

As song of any robm, and her neat 
Blue jacket, sailor hat, and all surpassed 
The finest of the city girls' for she 
Is just as pretty, and ain't got that 

proud 
Disdamful way as them's that of that 
crowd. 
Or else, of course, she wouldn't speaK to 
me. 

I wish I'd looked some better, for these 

torn 

II Blue 



At the End of the Row 

Blue faded overalls and old white hat 
Perhaps am't quite as good she'd 
liKe to see; 
You can't go dressed up much when 
plowin' corn; 
I don't believe, though, that she noticed 
that, 
It maKes no difference for she spoKe 
to me. 



Dull 



THE PLOWMAN 



ULL low-hung clouds 
press downward fold 
on fold, 

Sharp cutting blasts of 
chilling mist drive 
keen: 

Sodden and damp the 
fields, and blacK be- 
tween 
Gray breadths of stubble 
lies the upturned 
mold. 



Bravely against the blasts of stingmg rain 
The weary plowman toils, his head 
bent low ; 




13 



The Plowman 

Chill clini his garments, painfully and 
slow, 
Soil-clojjjgcd his weary feet plod on amain. 

Night presses on, and darker grows the 
gloom. 
The wmd more ehill ; but m his rugged 
breast 
Faints not his sturdy heart For 
clear and bright 
From out his cottage, from the cheery 
room 
Where wife and children wait, and 
well-earned rest, 
The evening lamp bodes shelter from 
the niiht 



15 ITS 



LOVE AND DUTY 



T'S been the derndest 

slowest afternoon 
I've seen for morc'n a 

month. It ain't because 
I've worked so awful hard. 

I ain't plowed half 
What any other fellow'd 

done, I s'pose. 
The team's all right; the 

ground's a-workm' fine; 
The field's a-needin* 

plowin', too. You'd 

think 
I'd Keep 'em goin' lively, 

but, by jing, 
I jest can't do it. When I turn around 
Down at the other end, there, next the house, 

16 Or 




Love and Dvty 

Or stop a bit to clean the shovels off, 
Jest liKe as not I'll fool around and take 
Three times as long's I really ought to da 

A fellow shouldn't act jest this-a-way 
An' waste the whole cndurin' afternoon, 
An' keep a-lookin' all the time to where, 
Down to the house acrost the pasture lot, 
She's visitin' our folks. 



17 



Fidelity 



FIDELITY 



LOVE thcc well; 

Through sore adver- 
sity, 
Though friends depart 
Thou still art true to 
me. 

Once wealth was mine, 
Fame not from me 
estranged ; 
Now troubles come, 
Alone art thou un- 
changed. 

My purse is lean, 
My coat is shabby grown ; 
Friends pass me by, 

Thou'rt true, and thou alone. 

18 Long 




Fidelity 

Long years have broujght to us 

Acquaintance ripe ; 
Thou still art true to mc, 

My old brown pipe. 



19 



A QUESTION 



E E N a- sporkin' Suszm 

Jane, 
Oldest daughter Jacob 

Lane, 
Nigh on three year now, I 

guess, 
Ought to get my happiness 
Settled pretty soon, I 

s'pose; 
Would if tVan't for little 

Rose, 
Younger sister. Wouldn't 

'low 
She could bother, would 

you now? 
But I've tried to fix my mmd, 
Susan's lovin' 'nough, and Kind ; 

20 I 




A Question 

I 'low sometimes she don't Know 
Why I acts this way, but, sho! 
When that Rose is Kitin' 'round 
Words for Susan can't be found. 
Big brown eyes and coal blacK hair, 
'Bout sixteen, it isn't fair 
Way she does. K only she 
Was old as Susan you'd soon sec 
This whole busmess fixed to stay ; 
Why does she act Ihis-a-way? 



21 




A PICTURE 



BRIGHT blue eye and 
a quiet smile, 
And masses of golden 
hair, 
A calm clear face, with 
never a trace 
Of aught ill lurking 
there. 
A slender foot 'neath her 
simple gown 
No queen e'er had 
such grace. 
As she sat with mc 
'neath the apple- 
tree. 



The love-light on her face. 



23 



It's 



A Picture 

It*s a picture, that's all, from the days 
jione by. 

Days many these long years past, 
But thouj^h time has sped, and the 
seasons fled, 

That picture will always last 
I cherish it still, yea, always will. 

It is sacred to me above 
All others I Know, 'twill be ever so ; 

My first and my one true love. 



24 Throuj^h 



THROUGH THE DROUTH 



W let us bow our heads 

in silent prayer." 
Clear fell the words, 

clear, full, but deeply 

fraught 
With true emotion, and 

their import sanK 
Within each heart the 

while the priest's thin 

pale 
Young face showed 

plamly how his iron 

will 
But scarcely held his 

feelings under sway. 
Then fell a silence in the little church, 
A deep and solemn silence, all the air 

25 Seemed 




Through the Drouth 

Seemed held in bond by some mysterious 

force 
That drew together close the souls of all 
And melted them to one, and one that 

prayed 
Deep, earnest, passionate that God might 

hear 
And stead them in then* anguish and their 

need. 
Withm the silence but one sound was 

heard. 
The gentle sighing of the autumn wind, 
A sad and solemn silence, far away 
LiKe that of one who suffers sore but 

would 
If in her power Keep her anguish hid 
Lest it should trouble give to one she loves. 

So prayed they all in silence, till at 

last 
Impassioned, clear, the strong young voice 

began, 

26 So 



Through the Drouth 

So true in Kinship 'twas to every heart 
It seemed a voice the congregation poured 
In concert breathing forth their hearts' 
desires. 

He spoKe of burdens God his people lent 
To ^ivc them faith, increase their failing 

strength, 
To cleanse each heart from all its sel- 
fishness ; 
Of God's own people, how for many years 
They bore misfortune, bore and murmured 

not. 
Through days when earth then- mother 

failed to give 
Her wonted sustenance, when rivers failed. 
The soil was parched, the sKy was burning 

brass. 
And hope was dead withm each aching 
breast. 

Then rose his voice with feeling more 
mtent, — 

27 Thou 



Throvgh the Drouth 

« Thou God, who hearcst when the ravens 

cry, 
And pitiest them and givest them their 

food, 
Who Knowest all thy creatures, e'en the 

least, 
The humblest in thme whole wide universe, 
Give ear to us, thy children, who have toiled 
Long weary months and come at last to 

find 
Our labor fruitless, bare of recompense. 
Our fields grew fair and flourished, and the 

hope 
Of bounteous harvest cheered each toiler 

on; 
Withm each heart was joy, and from each 

eye 
LooKed hope and courage, courage such as 

wms 
Though mountam-high the barriers arise 
So is there left a path however steep 

28 By 



ThrovjJh the Drouth 

By which to reach the goal. Then came 

those days, 
Those fearful days when Thou did'st seem 

to fail, 
Or m some high displeasure did'st remove 
Thy favor from us, Thou did'st take away 
The hand that erst had'st sheltered us 

withal. 

" Our fields lie waste, no toiler's hand has 

reaped 
Aught for his labor, empty are our barns. 
Our stocK un-fed. God give us strength 

to bear 
Not want alone, nor winter's cruel storms. 
Not scant protection from that which 

assails 
Our mortal bodies ; no, but be Thou, Lord, 
Thrice potent to sustain ovr smking souls 
When empty-handed, heavy-hearted, sad. 
Long days we sit with useless idle hands. 
Helpless and hopeless, sore and sick at heart, 

29 Broken 



Through the Drouth 

BroKen and comfortless, oppressed beneath 

Dlack sullen clouds that crush and Kill the 
soul. 

Let shine some light by which to pierce the 
gloom, 

Sustain the down-cast, give to each some 
cheer, 

Make brave each heart, and even as we 
now 

Through gathering evening shadows home- 
ward go 

Be with us all as Thou wert once of old 

To bless Thy people in the wilderness." 

He ceased, and deeper yet the silence 

seemed. 
The wind had settled. Shadows thick and 

darK 
Filled nave and transept, but a beam of 

light 
DroKe from the dull gray clouds ere sanK 

the sun, 

30 Flashed 



Throvgh the Drovth 

Flashed bright o'er pew and altar, till it 

fell 
Full on the sculptured Christ upon the 

wall, 
Bathing it rich in golden radiance. 

Lifting his hand the priest spoke, " May 

God bless 
This sacred omen. And now, beloved, go 

hence 
Be brave of heart, keep firm and strong 

your faith. 
God bless you all ! " They answered low, 

"Amen." 



31 Misanthropy 



MISANTHROPY 



S'P EC T you'll UimKirs 

kind o' hcathen-liKc, 
May'bc 'tis wrong, but 

jest the same it's true; 
I Keer more for that old 

gray team out there, 
My worn-out wagon, 

plows, and other things 
I've got 'round here than 

'bout the biggest half 
Of human critters that 

I've ever seen. 
These things, I knows. 

They're always in 

their place 
And when I wants them, I'm dead sure 

to find 
32 They're 




Misanthropy 

They're ready fixed for jest what's to be 

done, 
And humans, though they all 'lows they're 

so smart, 
Puts on such airs; holds up their heads so 

high. 
Ain't safe to trust, can't be de-pended on. 

I'm old Bill Jones ; not very much account. 
Am't got no woman, child, nor scarce a 

friend ; 
Got that air team, some few old farmin' 

tools. 
Got this here eighty, worst blame piece of 

land 
You ever saw, I s'pect. 'Tain't fit to farm. 
Jest hills and hollers, all growed up to 

weeds. 
All rough and stony, creeK choKed hill of 

brush. 
The worst derned place I s'pect that lays 

out doors. 

33 I 



Misanthropy 

I liKc it thoui^li. It's good enough for mc ; 
And, after all, I'm most inclmed to guess 
Them hosscs there, this eighty acre farm 
Are just as much God's makm' as the best 



34 Who 



A PRAYER 




H that I am, and what I 

am, and who 
Arc all these forms about 

mc, I Know not; 
Nor can I Know. And 
that which I have done, 
And strive to do, no man, it seems, can 

know. 
And God eternal, only, understands. 

I am so weaK, so helpless, and so frail; 
Thou God who hearest all thy children's 
cries, 

Let shme for me one star in all the vast 
Wild night through which I wander. Deign 
to show 

Some path, however humble, that, assured 
There I may follow and thy will be done. 

35 



BY MOONLIGHT 



LOVE this quiet moon-lit 
winter nijjht 
When all the prarie 
round so wide and far 
Is snowy - mantled, and 
each twmkling star 
Burns like a rajah's jewel, large and bright; 




The clear cold moon floods down its silver 
light. 
And from each post or tree a blue-blacK 

bar 
Of shadow falls athwart the earth, to 
mar 
The far-spread ermme robe of vffgm white 



37 



That 



By Moonlii^ht 

That covers all. Here by the sod-housc 
door 
I stand and listen ; mystic, strange, but 
clear 
There comes sweet music, all the 
breathless air 
Vibrates ecstatic, and my heart feels more 
Celestial joy, Ihoujjh sordid my lot here. 
Than earth-born mortals have the 
right to share. 



38 There's 



IN ANY WEATHER 



HERE'S folKs, no matter 

what the weather is, 
Am*t never suited, kicK 

because it's cold, 
Wuss yet when*s hot, or 

wet, or else too dry, 
Can't suit them nohow ; 

'low that i! the Lord'd 
Give them the job they'd 

fix things up 'bout 

rii^ht; 
Leastwise they sense it 

so, but after all 
Though I respects their 

great ability, 
And gives them credit for a heap more 
brams 




39 



In Any Weather 

Thzin some the rest has got, Pd hate to trust 
A ticKlish busmess like the weather is 
To then* contrivin*. May-be, even though 
They air so clever, even yet there might 
Some little thmgs go wrong, in spite the 

fact 
They know so much. 

fiut when all's said and done 
I don't see what's the use complainin' 

'round ; 
The weather's what you make it, foul is 

fan- 
To him as cares to see it that-a-way; 
The finest day in June is cold and drear 
To some cantanKerous humans, always is. 
Their liver's bad, they'd rather see things 

'round 
LooK dull and gloomy. But it ain't my way ; 
I like the man who's got the nerve to stand 
The same each day; goes out to meet the 

storm, 

41 Fights 



In Any Weather 

Fights wind in summer, snow in winter 

time, 
Cares for his stocK, does all the needful 

chores, 
Takes ram and sunshme, heat and cold 

aliKe, 
Keeps his heart warm by doing what's 

his due. 



42 Yes 



A COMPARISON 



ES, I have fought amid 

the palm-trec groves 
And bamboo forests of the 

Philippines, 
And I have dodged the 

Mauser's flying shot, 
Eneountered fever in the 

deadly swamps, 
Risked life on transports 

on the China sea, 
Fared hard on contract 

rations, lost my pay. 
Found faithless, too, the 

girl I left behind; 
But, really, that was pleasant when com- 
pared 
To being ambushed in a drawmg-room 

43 Hy 




A Comparison 

By thin-faced nasal poets wlio rise safe 
From some far corner, shuffle to the light 
Untying ribbon from « Columbia's Brave," 
And, wrapped in a self-glorifying smile, 
' Tis their occasion, stridently begin — 
"Now blest Aurora greets the sacred 

car 
That bears our heroes from the savage 
war," 
Or in falsetto shrills his hero strain — 
" Hail, heroes! Heroes hail I 
Strengthen steam and crowd on sail. 
Hasten with the favormg gale, 
Let the beacon fh'cs be burning, 
Hail the heroes home returning. 
Muse, recount the awhil tale 
That shall maKe our cheeks grow pale. 
Hail, heroes ! Heroes hail." 
I ain't so much a hero. What I did 
You would have done yourself, if you'd 
been there. 

44 You'd 



p 



A Comparison 

You'd had to, or the nigj^ers would have 

got— 
There eomes that poet ! Let me find the 

door. 



45 Sun 



IN JUNE 



r"j™lUN ashinin', weeds a 
I ^^ grownm*, 

H Corn needs plowin* bad; 

Lots to do, ort be a 
worKin', 
Course I orter had. 
Nice place here, though, by the gleamin* 

Ripplm' waters of the creeK, 
Sittm* fishm*, smokin', dreamm*, 
Shadders all so cool and thicK. 
Team a standin* out of sight of 
House, and I'm a sittin* here, 
Got three minnors, though I might of 

Caught lots more 'spect if this yere 
Fish-hooK was a little better 
And dass't bring my fishin' pole. 



46 



Ortern't 



In June 

Ortcrn*t do this, ortcrn't let er 
Day like this jest taKe the whole 

Sense and life right out a feller, 
Wife can*t understand it 't all; 

Ain't no use to try to tell her, 
I can't he'p it, that's jest all. 



47 The 



ON "INSPIRATION 



H E other day I read it, I 

don't jest 
Remember where it was, 

about a man 
Who had a fit or some- 

thin^ when he saw 
The sunrise, and he writ 

it down in verse 
And had it printed in the 

magazines. 

I don't care a demnation 

darn about 
"Aurora's beams" or 
" Phoebus' golden car ;" 
I set here milkm' 'long side of ol' Spot, 
The mornmg sun a soaKin' in my bacK, 




48 



The 



On << Inspiration" 

The milK-pail 'tween my knees. I tell 

you what, 
I jest feel jjfood. 



49 Bravest 



ENVOI 



RAVEST and truest of 

all brave and true, 

Strongest in time o! trial, 

jfricf or need, 
Faithful while life en- 
dures to those she 
loves 
Is she who lives her 

simple, artless life 
Where corn-fields are, 
and waving golden 
grain. 
With shady groves and 
pleasant pasture lands. 
A face calm, placid, pure, untrained to try 
Dissimulation's arts, or practice wiles; 
The blue of heaven's m those quiet eyes, 

50 




Envoi 

A jfolden summer in her j^lorious hair, 
And God's pure sunshine m her simple 
souL 



^ 



52 



" Here endeth A Gallery of Fzirmer 
Girls as writ by Schuyler W. 

, Miller; the pictures, mitials, and 
other drawhi^s in this booK were 
made by Mr. Herbert R. Johnson 



Done into print for Schuyler W. Miller by Harry S. 
Stuff at THE IVY PRESS, Lincoln, Nebraska. But 
300 copies were printed after which the forms were 
marked dead. •• ♦• •• «•♦••••••••»••♦'•• 



00 



